Behind The Mirror
by Tincture
Summary: Yaoi. Ronon and Liam explore what it means to be alone when surrounded by people. What your walls can cost you and also give you. Live on reviews.....
1. Chapter 1

Rating: M, contains yaoi (M/M), rating for future chapters.

Diclaimer: Doesn't belong to me blah blah. Go ahead and sue if you want but I have 3.50 at the moment which I'm about to go spend on lunch, so hurry up if you want the cash.

Note: This is just the intro para, Arguing with myself how to start this story, couldn't agree on anything so this is what you got. Don't stress, promise it gets a hell of a lot better.

Characters: Ronon/OC (Character partially outlined in The Problem. But doesn't contain that scene.)

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**Chapter 1.**

"But why do we need him?" Sheppard rubbed a hand tiredly in his hair. McKay had been whineing similar sentiments for the last half hour. Hopefully Sheppard glanced around at the others. Teyla was determinedly staring out the big panels towards the ocean with her patented, _I will be patient_ look. Ronon was checking his accumulated weapon supply (Sheppard never knew how he stored that many knives on his person) and was starting to look dangerously bored. And McKay was still staring at him belligerently.

"To make sure you don't get shot in the ass too often, Rodney." Sheppard said with only a small trace of frustration.

"But we're a mobile team! What possible use could we have for him?" The scientist protested feebly again.

"We're?" Ronon rumbled sarcastically.

Sheppard suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, the last thing he needed was Ronon to start needling the scientist's inferiority complex. "Deal with it. He's coming."

"Another caveman? Why can't we have a scientist? Do you know how many times I have saved your collective posteriors?" McKay whinged. "And he's late!"

"Rodney-" Sheppard tried to break into the spiel.

"I mean, what kind of expectation does that set? Can't be on time to a jumper bay. I bet he got lost. A sniper that got lost. That'd be the kind of person we'd get loaded with. How hard is it to find the jumper bay in Atlantis?"

"Rodney!" Sheppard tried again.

Wouldn't it have been more useful to get us a medic or something with the amount of times you lot are throwing us in harms way? If something happened to me, Weir would be stuck with Zelenka and then eep!" Rodney's cry was abruptly muffled.

"Shut up." An Irish voice suggested conversationally next to his ear (actually it sounded more like _Shhooot oup_). Frantically McKay tried to nod. The hand clamped over his mouth eased away. Jumping away with the grace of a scared rabbit, McKay noticed the openly grinning expression of Colonel Sheppard, Teyla's small smile that she was trying to hide and Ronon's mask of blankness that he usually reserved for strangers.

"Who do you think you are?" McKay went on the attack to salvage some pride.

"Specialist Liam Dougle reporting to Colonel Sheppard." The stranger said conversationally, ignoring McKay.

"Good to have a sharp shooter on board." Sheppard stepped forward and gave the taller man a firm hand shake. He indicated each member in turn. McKay gave the man an awkward but scathing glance when introduced. "Got everything you need, Dougle?"

"Aye, sir." The man replied.

"Then let's go." Sheppard said starting towards the puddlejumper.

"Another glorious training session." McKay groused as he trotted after the Colonel. "Another week sleeping in stinking sloppy mud."

"McKay?" Sheppard said flatly. "You get first watch."

"Why can't the newbie do it?" McKay started up another round of whinging.

"Jaysis." Came the quiet comment from Dougle.

Ronon glanced at the man who was watching McKay in compounded disbelief and amusement, mentally comparing the two accents of this stranger and the Doc. They were similar in thickness but different in the way the words rolled out of their mouths. Sitting on the bench in the puddlejumper, Ronon watched the man for signs of anxiety. And had the dissatisfaction of finding none. The newest member seemed to handle being in alien technology without any hesitation. Feeling a gaze upon him, Dougle looked square at Ronon. Ronon found himself looking into curiously blue eyes for such white skin. The man looked at him solemnly for a moment before a lock of hair slithered down into his eyes, breaking the contact between them. The moment passed and Teyla leaned forward with a friendly smile and gentle questions.


	2. Chapter 2

Liam snorted from where he sat against the base of a rough barked tree.

"Hey! I'm trying here!" McKay snapped. "Not like you are even watching." He muttered as he turned back to Ronon.

Not even bothering to open an eye, let alone turn his head, Liam replied lazily. "Don't need to."

McKay turned to Liam exasperation leaking out of every pore. "Oh that's right, you're an oracle too. Of course Rodney's going to fail." McKay started to really get in stride. "Because he's so useless at anything physical. Well, let me tell you how many times this brilliant brain of mine-."

"Rodney, Rodney." Liam raised his voice slightly to cut across his irate tirade. "I cannot help it if you were never on the high school football team. But in about three seconds Ronon is going to tell you you have too much weight on the left foot, your grip is wrong and to relax those arms before they cramp on you which is why your aim is so far off."

McKay opened his mouth then shut it again before turning to Ronon in mute appeal. Ronon shrugged one shoulder silently sharing his agreement with the man sitting on the ground five feet away. "How can you know that?" Rodney spluttered. "

"Because this is what he is trained for." Sheppard interjected before the pale skinned young man could wind the scientist up any more.

"Oh." Said McKay before hurriedly adding, "And I chose not to be on the football team."

Small almost identical smiles graced the features of every member of the team, even the kind hearted Teylor. A deep rumble from Ronon forbade any comment from McKay as he commanded his attention to the matters at hand.

Sheppard frowned slightly as he watched the young Irishman clean his handgun methodically and almost absently. On a professional level, Sheppard had no qualms with the 'Boy' as he was beginning to think of him. Dougle moved quietly, with speed and fitted into the scenery like a good sniper should. On a team level, well Sheppard wasn't so sure. It wasn't that he'd caused any problems. He was unobtrusive and almost invisible in the team dynamic. And that last factor is what bothered Sheppard the most. The Boy fitted in seamlessly, he was polite to Teyla reacting in an almost brotherly fashion. He showed deference and respect to Sheppard as the other two did (McKay not included), suggestions were made calmly and easily. He let Ronon have his silences and suspicions without getting offended (unlike most new people). And he teased McKay in a dry but not malicious manner. But the thing that really made Sheppard twitch was the fact that he didn't try to size up the big Satedan, there was no metaphorical 'pissing contest'. And _everyone_ tried it on with Ronon. Sheppard could admit with only a faint feeling of embarrassment that even he tried to outstrip Dex upon occasion. Nothing overt, just trying to stretch the other man, and he was the commanding officer. And he really wanted to see Dex put Dougle through his paces. Perhaps with a medic in close attendance given Ronon's previous records and this Boy's unknown and supposedly nonexistent temper. Dougle didn't seem to need to prove anything. He fitted in seamlessly. He was reliable, easy going and someone you could talk to. And it bugged the hell out of him. First thing Sheppard was going to do when he got back to Atlantis was reread that file on the Irishman.


	3. Chapter 3

Sheppard sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck trying to ease the strain as he moved down towards the sparring room. He nodded his greeting quietly to the marine coming out the door. Leaning against the door jam he watched Ronon and some of the newer recruits train. Well, the recruits trained and Ronon just played. Sheppard winced in sympathy as Ronon flicked the marine he was sparring with casually into the padded wall. Padded or not, that would have hurt. Patiently Sheppard waited for Ronon to finish correcting the marine.

"Come to sparr?" The big man's voice jolted Sheppard out of his silent contemplation.

"Nah, figured you have enough people to beat up at the moment." Sheppard smiled. "Have you sparred with Dougle?"

"No." Dex shrugged.

"Can you arrange it?" Sheppard asked. "For 1800 hours?" Ronon nodded silently. Sheppard gave his thanks and turned to leave.

"Shep?" Something dark floated under Ronon's tone. "Do we have a problem?"

"No." Sheppard said slowly, looking up at the dreadlocked man who was watching him very carefully. "Just want him stretched a bit." Ronon nodded in understanding.

There was something odd about the way the Boy fought. He was quick, light on his feet and very agile. It was obvious that Dougle was only staying out of Ronon's grasp by these gifts. And Ronon's eyes were starting to narrow dangerously. Then it hit Sheppard, Dougle fought to escape, to put his opponent at a disadvantage, to make him pause so he could escape. "Hold!" Sheppard bellowed. Ronon pulled his next strike and the two men circled each other warily. Sweaty hair hung in ropey strands across Dougle's face.

"Dougle, you been around the obstacle course yet?" Sheppard asked as he ran a hand over the sensor to lift part of the wall away. A vast room with barrier and various obstacles was revealed. At the negative, Sheppard took out a stop watch and motioned the Boy over. He explained how the floor would light up infront of him showing him where to go. The Irishman took to the course.

"That isn't going to slow him down." Ronon observed through narrow eyes.

"I didn't expect that it would." Sheppard shrugged. They were silent for a moment watching the Boy take the course without even hesitating. "What do you think?"

"Scout of some kind." Ronon shrugged. "Strong defensive technique. Trained to get back alive at all costs."

"He didn't seem to be moving offensively with you at all." Sheppard observed.

"Mmn." Was Ronon's only response.

"What's up big guy?" Sheppard asked frowning up at the taller man. "Why are you reserving judgment on Dougle?"

Dex gave him a long look then gave a one armed shrug. Sheppard sighed. "This boy," Ronon said slowly, "has a lot more experience than he is showing."

"What do you mean?" Sheppard looked over to where Dougle was moving easily around the course.

"Watch him go under this next wall." Ronon paused as the object was negotiated. "See the slight hesitation?"

"Yeah." Sheppard said slowly.

"He's used to carrying more than just a rifle." Ronon said quietly turning away.

"I see." Sheppard said just as softly.


	4. Chapter 4

At first Sheppard thought that he was imagining things, or a series of strange coincidences were taking place around him (this was the Pegasus galaxy after all.). But now he was convinced something seriously weird was going on. Every time he turned around (and lately that had been a lot) he could spot either Dougle or Dex. And the times that he couldn't, he generally knew which area of city (thanks to Atlantis) one or the other would be in. Yes, that was a little odd but not as odd as it got. It was the fact that when he found either Dex or Dougle the one in question could place where the other was down to .5 of a meter. Even when out of eye shot. The first time he had told Teyla, she had smiled gently at him and told him to get some more sleep. The second time she had pointed out that this was what they did for a living. John had said that being an ex-runner was probably excuse enough to be a little paranoid, but Dougle's?

Of course, that file on the sniper (the one he'd had to ask Weir to ask the Powers That Be for, not the Johnny next door file that they'd tried to palm off on them first) had more blacked out spaces than legible bits. Granted, he'd expected a sniper file to have inked out bits, but even bits of the basic training blacked out. And given that, he was fairly certain that the sniper's name was not Liam Dougle.

And there was that time last week that Dougle had been assigned to Zelenka and his scientist cohorts for an afternoon of off-world testing. McKay had been in a snitch for what felt like an eternity. Apparently Dougle had been 'too friendly' and 'not conducive to a work environment'. According to the other marine on babysitting duty, there had been no problem. Zelenka and the other scientists had gotten along with Dougle like a house on fire. McKay was the only one to run screaming from the house so to speak. Apparently he was cracking jokes with Zelenka, in _Czech_. And singing, very quietly, with Mai (Mika? Mira? M-something anyway) in _Cantonese. _And that had made McKay feel very very excluded. Which made Sheppard very very unhappy as he was the one that had to listen to McKay whinge for an entire day. And he had a sneaking suspicion that Ronon had, ah, gained an appreciation for Dougle's end result. He wasn't yet sure if it was deliberate or not. Sheppard needed to see this Irishman's temper crack. He needed to _know_ what he was capable of under pressure. Sheppard smiled to himself. He thought he knew the perfect man for the job.

"You want me to _what?_" Carson exclaimed as he turned to fix a pair of unbelieving eyes on Sheppard.

"Please?" Sheppard tried.

"Why me?" Carson's curiosity got the best of him.

"Ah- because Ronon would have killed him. And McKay doesn't have that kind of reasoning."

"And when this boy explodes?"

"Then you're going to come and find me and tell me all about it." Sheppard said promptly.

"Assuming I'm not dead." Beckett said sarcastically as he turned back to his lab results.

"You will be fine." Sheppard tried to be soothing.

"Oh I know that, lad." Beckett said. "Cause I ain't doing it." Sheppard sighed. "In case it escaped your notice, I need my patients to trust me."

Sheppard grimaced, obviously he was going to have to resort to bribery and corruption. He could kiss goodbye his stash of chocolate then.


	5. Chapter 5

For the next couple of weeks the team had the run of the mill off world expeditions. Occasional habituated planets, more often than not empty. And the team discovered something odd about the Boy. Teyla was amused by it. McKay was grumpy about it. Sheppard was perplexed and it just simply fascinated the hell out of Ronon. It was the simple act of watching the Sniper wake up. During the night the Boy slept quietly, long hair in his face, curled in on himself to conserve the most heat. During a heat wave or on a hot planet he stretched out across any available space. Simply put, a warm night meant the Irishman was a bed hog, and cold nights meant he was a cover hog. Needlessly to say, if beds had to be shared for some obscure reason, there was usually significant trading of chocolate and future watches to ensure that they were not the person ending up sharing with Dougle. To complement this charming trait, Dougle made Sheppard look like a morning person. He'd emerge from the hut/ tent/ bedroll usually still pulling a shirt on. One hand then rubbed through his long hair, eyes slitted to minimize light entry. He'd wander over to the rest of the group, he usually arrived as the third of the group up (Ronon first, Teylor second, Sheppard fourth then several long minutes later, usually after Sheppard had kicked the bedroll, by a whinging Rodney) grunt or mutter (Ronon usually couldn't tell, his accent was so thick) something unintelligible to Teylor's query of whether he slept well and then resume sleeping, this time on his feet. Hair sticking up every other which way he'd make a beeline for anything hot to drink. If not then he'd simply attack anything remotely sugary. The first and last time Rodney had tried to take the coffee pot off him, the Irishman had growled something about sodding off. McKay's pout and sulk had lasted for the next hour. Not that the sniper cared, he was still asleep. He could pack down a camp site in this condition and both Sheppard and Ronon marveled at it. Sheppard had actually awoken early one morning and with Ronon's help had changed the layout of the campsite just to see if he woke up at all and to see how much he relied on muscle memory. The smaller Irishman navigated it flawlessly, stepped around Sheppard's accidentally outstretched boot and muttered something about fecking Americans all in his upright sleeping state. Which Sheppard, still in awe of that navigation, saw no reason to get offended by.


	6. Chapter 6

The third time a mission went pear shaped, the team was light a member. Specifically this was discovered as they bolted for the gate. The tribe that inhabited the planet seemed a little, ah, hostile.

"We're coming back for Dougle, right?" Was McKay's gasp as he ran his flat footed best.

"I told him to get the gate secure when things started to look hinky." Came Sheppard's short reply. "He should have our asses covered if we make it that far."

"Ah-" The scientist was cut off by a burst of fire as Sheppard shot at their pursuers.

"Did something happen?" Sheppard demanded.

"He told me to run, so I did." McKay said defensively.

"How many and where?" Ronon said as he fired into one of the bushes.

"Five." McKay said then hurriedly pushed on as Sheppard and Ronon exchanged glances. "But he shot two."

"Why didn't you call us for help?" Teyla asked gently.

"Dead zone." McKay said with that sanctimoniously ass covering tone.

"Right." Sheppard wiped a hand tiredly over his chin. "Teyla, Ronon and I lead them away, get McKay through the gate and tell Weir what's going on."

Teyla nodded. "She'll want to send another team."

"Tell her to hold for three hours or so. Tell her we have a better chance of doing this by stealth."

"Good luck." Teyla nodded then took off with McKay.

"So this is what you call stealth?" Liam inquired politely as Sheppard stopped talking.

Ronon grunted from where he sat in the corner of the suspended cage which rocked in the breeze. The guards on the ground gave it an extra shove that sent it jerking on the end of the rope. Liam turned even paler.

"You're not afraid of heights are you?" Sheppard edged away from the sick looking man.

The sniper took a deep breath. "Ronon." He said slowly then moved forward. "Move!"

Ronon moved. Fast. There was a shout of outrage from below and Sheppard looked from the guard below to the sniper with admiration. "They teach you Irish everything don't they?"

"Learnt that from my brother." Liam said with a shrug as he exhaled heavily. At Sheppard's surprised look, he clarified. "He had vertigo."

"Vertigo?" Ronon questioned.

"Dropsies." Liam said. Ronon nodded in understanding.

"Gentlemen and associated bastards." Liam said announced in a whisper. "Hang on."

"Wha-?" Sheppard started before his stomach tried to exit his mouth as the cage plummeted to the ground. There was a crash as the cage's poles snapped and broke upon the ground.

"Come on!" Liam hissed as questioning cries rang through the night.

There was a grunt then an exceedingly sarcastic voice said, "Forewarning mean anything to you?"

Ronon grunted agreement as he gave Sheppard a hand up. "That way."

"Get over here." The Irishman snapped from the dense foliage at the side of the clearing.

"What?" Sheppard hissed.

"Get up here." Dougle pointed up to the dense canopy of the tree.

"We got to move." Ronon growled.

"We're gonna be chased the whole way to the Gate. Or we can wait them out." Liam shrugged.

"Weir's going to be sending a team into an ambush if we don't get to that gate." Sheppard said. "Move."

"This is why I hate working in teams." Dougle grumbled as he sprinted past Ronon.

_Sometime later. _

"We had a team about to come and get you Major." Weir said.

"We had a few creative differences with the people on the planet."

"So Teyla informed me." Weir said. "Everyone is okay?"

"Fine." Sheppard said with a shrug. The undercurrent to Weir question translated pretty clearly into _are you okay? _

"Dr Beckett is waiting to check you all over." Teyla stepped smoothly in.

"Let's go." Sheppard said starting to move.

"He can tell me where I left my insides." Ronon snarled with a dirty look at the pale man as Teyla fell into step beside them.

"Insides are where you left your sense of humor." Came the cheeky reply. The look that followed that reply promised a whole new world of pain for the Irishman at their next training session.

"Problems, Sheppard?" Teyla inquired mildly. Sheppard's look was almost as eloquent as Ronon's had been.


	7. Chapter 7

the whole village had been massacred. Not just killed, but hacked. Blood stank, flies swirled and the pieces lay there. Rodney had had a panic attack. Sheppard had been consumed by his anger, the only way he could keep functioning. Teyla had thrown up, dry retching then focused on Rodney's crisis to stop herself seeing what was before her. Ronon had focused on the surroundings guarding from any possible attack. Reverting to what was natural for him. That was how he saw what the others missed. The Boy was alert, also watching the perimeter. But he was also relaxed in stance, almost absently cleaning his fingernails with his blade. Blue eyes stoic, unaffected by the sight, hardened to it. Ronon wondered what the Boy has seen. The blue eyes catch Ronon watching.

"Chuck if you want too." It's said with a shrug.

And Ronon really wanted too. Really wants to heave like Teyla did. But he can't. "Why don't you?" He asks, half aggressively half curious. Anything to stop himself racing off to find these bastards.

"Don't need too." The answer is laconic and easy. Looking down into that pale skinned face Ronon feels like he is looking in a mirror. If Sheppard hadn't found him then would he also have ended up like this? His easy acceptance of the scene makes Ronon itch. The Boy shrugs. "They're dead, I'm alive. They're just food for the circling birds." Ronon turns and walks away. He can't hear this just now. He can see Satdena. Rubble and bodies. "Flies will continue to circle no matter what we do." The Boy is following him, Ronon shuts his eyes. "Strong survive, weak are scattered in bits." The last phrase is said with a bleak half bark of laughter. It was the laugh that did it. He was breathing hard, looking down at the Boy sprawled on the ground. The smaller man spat out a mouthful of bloodied saliva as he climbed to his feet, fore stalling Sheppard with a 'it's nothing' wave. Steady dark blue eyes looked up into Ronon's. "You feel better now." The Irishman moved away, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his swelling mouth. It took Ronon a moment to realize that it was a statement. And it was true. He felt a brief surge of shame and a quick surge of hot anger at being manipulated. But he also felt the truth, he could control his emotions better now. The sniper had needled him into releasing the anger, reacting to the sight before him. He knew that he needed it. And more than that, he wants to hit the Boy again for knowing that. And that thought lends him clarity.


	8. Chapter 8

He huddles in on himself, a pitiful picture of dejection and broken fear. They forget him, huddled in the back of the cage. He doesn't eat and soon it stops coming. The water dripping down in the cell is fetid and somehow slimy but he tips his head back and drinks it anyway. It is the only time he moves. His wrists are soon small enough to slide out of the shackles. It is time. His legs are shaky, but he is determined. The guard doesn't hear the skeletal Boy creep up on him. Doesn't see the sliver of rusted iron painstakingly scraped up from the cell floor. The guard clutches at his eye, bellowing. This far down, no one can hear it. He falls to the floor, the Boy's now feather weight riding him down. A knife is snatched from the sheath on guard's hip. The guard starts to bellow again as he feels the tip of his knife. But it is too late, this is not the first time, the Boy knows most of the tricks. Blood spurts. Then there is nothing, only his not so even heartbeat and the warmth that is the blood caressing his feet. The Boy rests against the wall. Eats slowly methodically. Remembering the words drummed into his skull. _Hunger can equal friend or foe. Use it. Survive. _He has time. He planned this. _Goals will keep you alive. Act, don't just react._ The body cools beside him. He feels strength start to flow through his veins. A desire to sleep takes him. He pricks a finger with a jagged half chewed nail. Sharp irrational anger flows through him. He is awake with a yell. McKay looks at him blearily. "Whasgoinon?"

"Nothing, bad dream." The sniper says with a dismissive wave of a hand. "Sleep."

"Umph" Is McKay's comment as he tumbles back down into sleep with ease. When the sun pokes its first rays over the hillside, it finds the Irishman high up in a tree at the edge of the clearing. He watches this strange sun rise and recites the ancient stories of the birth of the sun to himself. He wonders whether this culture has forgotten them in their haste to arm themselves. For they will need them later. Just like he does.


	9. Chapter 9

"I want the irishman." McKay demanded as he walked in clutching a sheaf of papers.

Ronon raised an uninterested eyebrow as he checked the draw on one of the P-20's in front of him. McKay blushed red. "Under the girlfriend." Ronon grunted with a tiny amused twitch.

"Girl- what?" McKay started to splutter.

"Kiss my ass, Dex." Dougle's voice floated out. "What is it McKay?"

"The specs on the spatial comp-" McKay suddenly paused uneasily. "You aren't with a girl, are you?"

Messy black hair preceded an unimpressed looking expression as Liam shot out from under the Jumper on a back board holding what appeared to be wire clippers. "Bad joke Genius, the puddlejumper is my girl friend, get it now?"

"Oh- um yes. Of course." McKay clearly did not get the reference at all.

"You wanted me?" Liam sighed, rolling his eyes up at the scientist.

"The spatial computer states that the crystals in drives 3 and" Rodney was cut off as Liam spoke across him.

"And drive 5?" Liam said dry and sarcastic as he gestured with the wire clippers in his hand. "Really could have used that info at about half six this morning." His head shot back under the jumper.

"Oh." McKay looked suddenly deflated. A curse sounded from under the jumper. "You're stuffing it up, I'll do it." He said sanctimoniously.

The dark head shot out from under the jumper again. "Get lost Rodney." The blue eyes snapped fire before disappearing under the jumper again.

"What?" McKay turned a baffled and somewhat injured expression on Ronon. "What did I say?"

"That was him swearing at you, not the ship." Ronon grunted again as he checked the scope on another rifle. The fact that it was pointed at McKay wasn't lost either. Accordingly the genius beat a hasty retreat.

"Why does that man see the need to irritate me with every little thing that goes wrong with these jumpers?" Liam grumbled.

"He just wants attention." Ronon answered as he squinted through a hand gun's sights. "Your sights normally this far off?"

"Don't touch them!" Liam shot out from under the Jumper again and glared up at the big Satdaen. Ronon's returned look was eloquent. "Sorry- sorry, just give it here will you?"

Ronon passed it over silently. There was a long pause as the sights were checked and draw pulled before it was handed back over. "Jet's dropping those powders off to the jumper on a training flight this afternoon." Ronon said casually. "Sheppard said this morning to tell you that they should be in the lab by the end of today."

"You prick." Liam ran a hand over his face before breaking into a relieved grin. "You absolute bastard."

"Well- if you don't want them-". Ronon gave a half shrug as his lips twitched.

"Half of me wants to kiss you, the other half wants to bash you senseless for keeping it from me." Liam was back to the proverbial innocent golden child.

"The first option is going to make McKay jealous." Ronon said giving him a sideways look. "And the second would prove challenging."

"Why are you hassling me on this?" The black tangled hair disappeared again. "What's with the comments?"

"Have a bet with Sheppard." Ronon admitted as he loaded the last of the guns into the crate.

"Hang on." There came a humming sound and a sigh of happiness. "Thank the Gods for that."

"Finished? Want lunch?" The bigger man rumbled from where he stood by the door.

"Hell yeah." The brunette was on his feet with that bounce that compact people often have. "And you can tell me 'bout this bet."

"Carson's got dessert for a week on the line for the week after next." Ronon rumbled with a laugh, causing heads to turn.

"Week after next _what_?" Liam said suspiciously.

"I'm for in the next three days, in the elevator."

"Ronon, you're gonna be puking your guts up for the entire ride to the mainland tomorrow if you don't tell me right now." The blue eyes were narrowed in that high sharp cheek boned face.

Ronon laughed. "You'd be wearing it."

A brief scuffle in the hallway earned them glares from the passing scientists, and an opening admiring glance from that blonde curly haired science lab girl. It ended with Liam sliding smoothly out of his shirt like a fish, leaving Ronon holding a fist full of shirt and not much else. Ronon gave him a nod of approval. "You've improved."

"Nope, that's a patented, 'get away from my sister' move. Ma tended to get really angry when we hit each other." Liam shrugged and caught the shirt that was flicked towards him.

"We all learn that move." Ronon agreed as he caught the small unusual comment about family.

"Now spill." Liam's voice was muffled as he pulled his t-shirt over his head.

"Sheppard has McKay confessing his feelings for you or inviting you to have lunch with him. We're taking bets on the number of days it takes him." Ronon said with an evil little chuckle.

"Put me down for three and in the corridor outside the lab." Liam said with a shrug.

Ronon blinked down at him. "I'm not sure that's-"

"Oh c'mon. I'm not going to say yes and it is _my_ ass you are taking liberties with." Liam pointed out.

"Why not?" Ronon arched an eyebrow.

"Seriously?" Liam asked incredulously. Ronon considered for a moment then nodded. "You think McKay ever shuts up?"

Ronon's nose crinkled slightly as he considered the distasteful picture that presented. "Ah."

"Exactly." The sniper said with a shrug as they disappeared down the corridor. "Besides, it's against regs even if I did feel inclined."

Somehow, Ronon seriously doubted that the rules had ever bothered the sniper in the past or ever would in the future if he needed to get something done. Ronon was beginning to strongly suspect that the rules the smaller man had had instilled in him went something along the lines of, get in, get out and eliminate anything that can identify you. Any other rules were merely there to help you blend into the scenery. Ronon could appreciate a person like that. It made the space between his shoulder blades as itchy as hell though.


	10. Chapter 10

Ninety nine times out of a hundred, nobody got hurt. That one remaining time seemed to be happening to Liam with alarming frequency. Usually just as he was saving someone's ass. First it was McKay. Then it was some random villagers. Then it was, unusually, Teyla. Most of the time, they'd find the Boy running full tilt for the gate just as the rescue mission was being mounted. He got out of Genii cells, primitive wooden cages, almost anything. And they never could get him to say how he did it. The Boy just shrugged and said "They got careless." There was only one time that he didn't find them before they found him. The fact that the Boy had walked out still made Sheppard wince.

"Did you have to stop and ask for directions or did you take the scenic route?" A thin lipped Liam asked in an attempt at humor when he saw Ronon and Sheppard slide in the door.

"Hey, we're here." Sheppard growled quietly. "The big guy here kept attracting attention."

"Can't imagine why." Liam said dryly as they jimmied the door to his cell open.

"Tried out that peaceful meditation stuff." Ronon grunted as he heaved the protesting door open. Limping, Liam eased out. Back out through the trees, and then a hail of darts came raining across a clearing at them.

"How's it working out for you?" Liam asked curiously from behind a tree as they waited for the rain to subside.

"Not good." Ronon grunted as he fired into the group of bushes that the darts had originated from.

"People keep bleeding." Sheppard clarified as he sprinted past them. "Teyla's not happy."

"Ah." Liam nodded thoughtfully as he took aim and stunned the last man. They sprinted down the path. The limping getting worse by the second. Ronon grabbed Liam around the waist, helping him along as Sheppard acted as rear guard. A tense fifteen seconds at the gate as they dialed out and then they were through and men were covering them. Weir was running down to them and Liam was standing on his left leg, the other resting lightly on the floor.

"Dex?" Liam's voice was very quiet. The bigger man looked at him. "Need to get out of here."

"Taking Liam to see the Doc." The Satedan rumbled in Sheppard's ear. Then shook his head at whatever suggestion was made. Slinging an arm around the younger man's waist he eased him out the hall and into a quiet corridor towards the medical bay.

"Ronon?" The ex-runner looked down into serious but unfocused dark eyes and an apologetic smile. "This might be inconvenient." Came the soft words as the pale skinned man passed out. Ronon was so surprised he almost let go of the lax figure before he hefted him into his arms and ran full out to the medical bay bellowing for Carson.

"He thought he might need to see a doctor." Carson was muttering sarcastically to himself.

The patient groaned and a muffled, "Shut up." Could be heard from the hospital bed.

"Don't tell me to shut up young man." Carson said irritably. "You have blood poisoning, a broken ankle _which you ran on, _and some sort of hallucinogen in your blood stream that I have only just got down to manageable levels."

"Water." Was the demand.

"Why did you try and walk to the sick bay? We do have perfectly good stretchers for this kind of thing." Carson said sarcastically as he helped the patient take a slug of water.

"Your bedside manner really sucks." Liam groaned.


	11. Chapter 11

_Ronon was sent to find the sniper after he pulled a disappearing act on Dr Beckett. Sucessfully found in a reasonably deserted corridor..._

"I'm fine!" Liam snarled. Ronon shrugged and stepped back. Angrily, the pale skinned man gestured for him to leave. As silently as he had come, Ronon disappeared around the corner. Gripping the hand rail he let go of the crutches, propping them against the railing. Very slowly he placed weight on his injured foot. Wincing, he carefully took a step foreward, slowly transferring all his weight across. Ronon resisted the urge to roll his eyes where he observed the man's progress in the reflective surface of the corridor. Then he was moving as Liam's leg gave from under him. Grabbing him by the arm and propping him against the wall. "Damnit!" Liam yelled shrugging Ronon off roughly. "I said I was fine!" he bit off.

"Want two broken ankles instead of just one?" Ronon demanded harshly.

"I'd like to see you try." Liam sneered, eyes flashing dangerously.

"Thought you were managing just fine on your own." Ronon growled.

"Y'know Dex-" Liam started pushing forward into his space then broke off with a gasp as his face blanched and Ronon was forced to grab him by the shoulders to stop him collapsing.

"What is it with you people?" Ronon grunted in disbelief. "Sit your ass down." He said as he all but dumped the sniper on the ground.

"I'm not a fucking charity case." Liam muttered as he gingerly prodded his ankle. Ronon thumped down beside him. Silence reigned for a time.

"What the hell do you boys think your doing sitting in the middle of a god damn corridor?" The bark of Caldwell filled the hallway. Liam muttered something. "What was that Dougle?"

The two seated men exchanged glances. "I said, we are doing a spot check of the foot wear around the base."

"Spot check of the footwear?" Caldwell all but thundered down at them.

"To see if there up to regulation." Liam smiled benignly up at Caldwell.

"Can't have the Wraith munching on us with dirty boots." Ronon rolled an eye up to the Commander.

"Get up." Caldwell snarled down at the two of them.

"Can't." There was a significant pause then Liam added, "Sir."

"Dex, on your feet." The Commander snapped, eyeballing Liam's ankle. The big ex-runner didn't twitch a muscle. The Commander turned a wroth filled gaze on Ronon. "Get. On. Your. Feet. Now."

"Y'know," Liam began conversationally, "technically he doesn't have to-"

Ronon got smoothly to his feet and then turned his back on the Commander, grabbing Liam by his arm.

"Stay where you are!" Caldwell thundered, his face going purple.

"Up, down. Sir, I just don't understand." Liam adopted a look of innocent confusion as Ronon pulled him to his feet (or rather foot). "I think we need clarification. I'll consult with the Major."

"Get back here!" This time Caldwell looked ready to explode as he watched Ronon sling an arm around Liam's waist and his arm over his shoulder and help him down the corridor.

"Sorry sir! My transport is departing!" Came Liam's cheeky reply.

_Some time significantly later in Weir's office_

"Technically Commander, Ronon Dex is not under your authority." Weir held up a hand to forstall the outburst. "But he has been made aware that such behaviour will not be tolerated in the future and Major Sheppard will find something suitable for him to do."

Ronon looked totally unrepentant as he met Caldwell's gaze across the office.

Weir sighed, "As for Specialist Dougle-"

"Wait!" Beckett came hurtling in to the office. "Ma'am! Such behaviour is unprecendented in the Specialist and I believe," Here he paused for a deep gulping breath, "that it was an adverse reaction to the painkillers he was prescribed."

Weir blinked. "So what you are saying,"

Beckett nodded. "Yes, he was, um, high essentially."

"High?" Weir stated.

"Yes, he really shouldn't be out of the infirmary." Beckett nodded, innocence radiating out of him. "But we're so short staffed recently, all the casualties that came in-." He trailed off spreading his hands apologetically.

"Hmm." Weir frowned then turned to Ronon. "What were you doing sitting there?"

"Convincing me to head back to the Doc." Liam supplied as the silence stretched. "I was being- ah- difficult."

"I see." Weir said suspiciously. "Major, I believe I will leave you to it."

"Thank you Dr Weir." Sheppard said flatly, still eyeing off Caldwell.

"After you Commander." Weir gestured the door to a still fuming Caldwell. The latter stalked out. Silence descended.

Sheppard sighed, scrubbing a hand across his forehead. "I don't know what happened, but I do know neither of you regularly sit in corridors."

"That could change." Liam offered innocently.

"He was trying to walk." Ronon said with a flat look at the younger man.

"You were what?!" Beckett just about flew into the taller man's face. Liam looked slightly guilty but only for a second. "You- you _stubborn git_ of a boy!"

"Alright." Sheppard hastily interjected. "Calm down Doc."

"Calm down?!" Carson just about exploded. " Do you have any, _any_ idea-"

"Okay!" Sheppard threw his palms up in surrender. "I have an idea."

"I'm fine, alright?" Liam grumbled.

"Och, really, when did you become a doctor?" Carson's brogue becoming thick enough to walk on.

"Shut it." Sheppard raised his voice. "Both of you." The Doc was visibly steaming. "When he moves, you move." The sentence was punctuated by a finger jabbing at Liam then at Ronon. "He is not to be out of your sight. If he walks, then sit on him." Ronon grimaced.

"I don't need a babysitter." Liam said exasperatedly.

"Personally I think it's a marvelous idea." Carson said smiling nastily at Liam.

"You think?" Liam's tone was heavily sarcastic.

There was a distinct pause that made both Ronon and Sheppard look between the two suspiciously. "Or not." Carson said slowly.

"Our patiet's behavior is your direct responsibility." Sheppard eyeballed an impassive Ronon. "Don't let him piss anyone off and _don't let him out of your sight_. And if Weir asks then that is your 'disciplinary action.'" With that Sheppard departed with an added . "Carson, I expect the first bottle." Over his shoulder.

"Fantastic, you told him." Beckett looked exasperatedly at Liam.

"High? On painkillers?" Liam snapped back. "Prescribed by you?! Not bloody likely, Doc." Ronon's lips twitched. "What?!"

"He's bored and you are suddenly very busy in your time off." Ronon said flatly.

"Relax Doc," Liam said with a grin. "Sheppard doesn't know anything. He's just stabbing in the dark."

"But he bloody does!" Beckett snapped irritatedly looking at Ronon.

"Gonna tell, Ronon?" Liam asked mildly. Ronon shook his head. "See Doc? Not a problem."

"How did you know?" Beckett looked at the tall man suspiciously.

"He asked for some bottles from the Athosians." Ronon said.

"Why didn't you just ask Teyla?" Beckett demanded.

"So she could tell the Major?" Liam half laughed. "C'mon, Doc, she wouldn't have approved."

"So you said, "Hey Ronon, can you get me some bottles for the illegal still the Doc and I are setting up?" Was that about it?" Beckett asked incredulously.

"No he said 'Can you get me some wheat and some bottles from the mainland?'" Ronon said mildly. "I may not come from your world Doc, but I do know how alcohol is made."

_The next day..._

"Dammit Ronon!" Liam exclaimed after their fourth near collision. "Gimme some space!"

"Can't." The big man shrugged.

"Yeah, you can." Liam said kindly. "It's easy, just go find something else to do."

"Can't." came the repeated implacable reply.

"Why not?"

"Because you keep trying to escape." Ronon folded his arms.

"I do not!" Liam's indignant reply came. Ronon arched an eyebrow. "Well- it's kind of mandatory. Patients have to try."

Ronon shrugged. "I can sit on you." He offered.

"You damn well aren't!" Came the spirited reply.

"It'd stop you trying to escape." Ronon shrugged. "And Sheppard said I could."

"Did Sheppard tell you to keep breathing this morning?" The sniper demanded.

"No."

"Then feel free to stop." Came the scowling reply.

"You sound like McKay." Ronon observed with a small twitch of the lips. "Come on, I've got training to start."

"Run along then." Dougle said with a sarcastic flutter of the fingers. Ronon simply looked down his nose at the smaller man. "Well I ain't moving." Came the flat reply.

"Kay." Ronon tapped his earpiece. "Marines scheduled for today's 1400hr combat class are to meet in corridor C-32."

A surprisingly short space of time later five marines sprinted around the corner. And skidded to a halt as they observed the sniper and the runner eyeing each other balefully. It was Dex who broke the gaze first to look around at the Marines hovering uneasily.

"First man to get Dougle back to the training room wins." Ronon smiled unpleasantly down at the smaller man beside him.

"Uh, Sir, aren't we supposed to be training with the fighting sticks today?" One of the newer recruits ventured, eyes veering sharply away from the sniper's death promising gaze.

Ronon gave a one armed shrug. "Use whatever you want."

"Sir, the man is wounded." Another protested.

"The person who wins, gets an automatic pass in hostile environment engagement."

"Did you eat a dictionary?" Dougle inquired sarcastically as he hopped backwards towards the wall under the suddenly predatory gaze of the marines.

"You could always simply walk." Dex offered as he retired to the far wall, absently playing with a knife.

"Piss off." It was said with a fair amount of venom.

"Get the crutches off him." Ronon ordered as the marines started to close in. That was easier said than done. The first marine was sent reeling back with a hand clamped to the side of his head, blood trickling from between his fingers as a result of the split in the scalp. The second collected the third as a well placed kick to the chin rocked his head back connecting him with the thirds nose as he went flying backward. The fourth and fifth wised up and acted as a team, staying well clear of each other. In their favor, it could be said that they got both crutches off the sniper. But that was when their plan pretty much went to hell. Launching himself like a demented white faced, thin lipped monkey at the marine on the right, he flattened him, had the injured leg's knee squarely on the marine's chest, said marine's gun unholstered and pointed at the fifth marine who back peddled rapidly.

"I think they all fail." The sniper shrugged as he gave the gun back to the winded marine.

"Five seconds more and they might have won." Ronon observed.

"Well they didn't." Dougle hauled himself to his feet, grabbing the crutches. Behind him Ronon went very still and held up one finger, motioning for the groaning marines to hold.

"What are we-" One started then stopped as the tall ex-runner darted forward at the same time the sniper seemed to simply fold up.

"Always observe your opponent." Ronon said as he started walking down the corridor with his arms full off unconscious sniper. "The rapid breathing, white face and swaying should all have been indicators for this occurrence."

"But he is always white." A marine muttered feeling his sticky scalp.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chap 12**

_Everyone on Atlantis seemed to be relieved when the sniper recovered enough to go on missions again. The only side affect of the injury was that the sniper's talent for mischief (or revenge as those on the receiving end thought of it) didn't abate when his injury did. And Ronon seemed to enjoy accompanying the Irishman's attempt at a second childhood…_

It happened while Sheppard was away one lunch time. Teyla, McKay, Ronon and Dougle were eating lunch when Ronon's cup darted away from his reaching hand. Movement at the table stopped. McKay with his fork half way to his mouth, eyes riveted on the now stationary cup. Ronon moved his hand towards it again. And the cup moved away again. Wordlessly Dougle proffered his own cup to Dex. Four eyes were riveted on the cup as it started to move again as McKay made an astonishingly fast swipe at it.

"Do we have any new personnel, McKay?" Dougle said thoughtfully as he poked at the stationary cup with his fork.

"Huh?" McKay tore his eyes away for a moment. "How should I know?"

"Science people, McKay. Y'know, minions."

"Oh." The scientist's face screwed up as he tried to think. "Yeah- new communications person and some wise ass electronics guy who thinks he's smarter than me." McKay's voice was disgusted.

"Which one is in here now?"

"Neither."

"You sure?" Teyla's voice was skeptical as she caught on to the plan.

"Yes." McKay sounded affronted.

Ronon's plate suddenly clattered to the floor as the sniper accidentally knocked it off the table top as he reached for the errant cup. Dex raised an eyebrow and glowered as the sniper hurriedly hopped off his chair and started to clean the mess up. Placing a hand on Ronon's shoulder as he passed his own plate over to him, he muttered something in Ronon's ear. The dreadlocked runner shrugged and resumed eating as the sniper picked up the mess of plate and mash and put it in the bin on his way out the door. Exactly seven minutes later, Ronon raised his knee to the precise spot under the table where the cup had just moved too. There was a tiny crunch under the table as an antenna less than half a centimeter crunched into a flat plastic transmitter attached to a heavy magnet. In the command room, a technician suddenly frowned and jiggled something on his desk. Dougle, flirting shamelessly with one of the female gate operators, noted who it was.

Over the next week, a remarkable number things went wrong for the new technician. And both Ronon and Liam underwent a steep learning curve in how much chocolate it took to bribe a certain Doctor. The poor technician couldn't get the door to his quarters to open at all one evening and was forced to go and get one someone with an Atlantean gene to open his door for him. His training sessions always seemed to be lacking a partner which left him at the tender mercies of Ronon. The final straw had been when his hair and part of his neck and face were dyed a reddish green when he had a shower. Ronon was quite proud of that one. Teyla had been conned into giving them the dye. And Liam was quite proud of the fast talking that he'd done. Everyone had fallen apart when they saw the techie at the morning briefing. Stalking up to the sniper, who was only part way through his first coffee, and the ex-runner, who was itching to go for his morning sparring session. The stocky technician snarled down at the pair of them, "I know you two are responsible for this!"

The surrounding people turned to watch eagerly.

Ronon grunted, sprawled out beside the sniper who flicked his fingers at him dismissively. "Go away little man."

"Go away?!" The technician's voice rose to a screech. A bored Dex and an almost coffeeless Dougle had serious eye contact at that point.

"Sheppard?" Dougle asked reasonably. "Can we go and fix this?"

"Unusually nice of you." Sheppard shrugged with a grin, indicating the door.

With that, the technician was unceremoniously frog marched out of the room.

The anger sustained the techie the whole way down the corridor and into a small anteroom. It even sustained him through the initial rush of complaints and accusations. And then the rage began to subside as he registered the fact that a very unimpressed and slightly bored Ronon was looking down his nose at him with arms folded across his chest. Like one would do with an errant child found with it's hand in the cookie jar. Dougle on the other hand was trying in vain to coax the last drop of coffee out of the cradled mug, not paying the slightest bit of notice.

"You thugs haven't even listened!" The Techie just about screamed in exasperation. The mixture of green and rising blood pressure red have an interesting affect to the colour of the skin tone. That got a pair of almost black eyes and a pair of piercing blue eyes riveted to his face. And the Techie noticed something that he had been missing. First, both men were part of Weir's golden boy team. Secondly, you don't get to be on the crack squad by being able to skip prettily through the daisies. Third and Fourth points occurred to the man simultaneously. He was alone in this room with two, admittedly attractive but very scary men. And their boss could control Atlantis. The techie began to think he may have bitten off more than he could chew. It was one thing to mess with jar heads fresh out of the camps.

"Y'know, the only thing I can hear is the lack of liquid movement in my cup." Dougle said speculatively.

Ronon looked at him sideways. "We need to get you some more books. I think you may have just vomited up the last one you ate."

"And I see your psychic gifts are back on line. Still channeling Sheppard." Dougle snapped back snarkily.

If he could just get them to keep arguing, he might be able to slip out unnoticed. He began to edge along the wall.

"You are such a bitch in the mornings." Ronon grumbled.

"No wait," Dougle mock paused. "Now channeling McKay. Which frequency do I have to be on to get Dex?" The tall ex-runner simply folded his arms and gave him the death stare. "Ah hah! Found him." The techie was almost half way across the room, moving in small increments. Hope bloomed in him. The taller man continued to stare the slighter man down. "Oh that's right, you don't speak till you've been for your run." Ronon crinkled his nose. "Oh fair enough I guess." The sniper said with a sudden change in tone as the techie saw him casually toss the cup up into the air and then he saw almost in slow motion, Ronon's suddenly open palm slap it out of the upward arc. The resultant course change had it rocketing towards the techie who collapsed onto the floor with a squeak, protecting his head with both hands. The cup clanged loudly against the wall and bounced down to the floor where it rolled to the boot of the techie.

"Pity these walls don't allow for much deflection."

"They do when knives are used." Ronon grunted with a shrug.

"You'll have to show me sometime." Dougle agreed easily. He nudged the collapsed form of the techie with a booted foot. "What are we going to do with him?"

"Toss him off a balcony." Ronon said dismissively. The Techie squeaked with fear.

"If he's dead, then his pain can't last." Liam pointed out.

"True." Ronon said with a nod.

"God, I need another coffee." Liam rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm. "Oh yeah, Jenkins said a package from the mainland arrived for you last night."

Ronon suddenly perked up. "We have a while before the end of the meeting?"

"Should do." Liam said with a shrug. "What you gonna do?"

"_We_ are going to the sparring room. _I_ have new weapons." Ronon all but purred.

"Coffee?" Came the plaintive plea.

"You can drink and walk." Ronon grunted as he started out of the room. There was an audible sigh of relief from the floor.

"Oh yeah, did we want to teach him to fly on the way through?"

"_New weapons._" Ronon's voice was insistant.

"I guess the balcony will still be there tonight." Liam said thoughtfully.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chap 13**

_On a rare off-world mission where nothing had gone wrong and the natives were technologically advanced enough to contemplate an almost even trade. They had stayed overnight due to the settlement's distance from the Stargate_

"You look like a cat." Ronon observed as he sat down on the floor in front of the fire.

"Nothing wrong with that." Liam said lazily, as he absently stretched exposing a hands-breadth of lean stomach.

If Liam had had his eyes open, he would have been in time to see a feral light bloom in Ronon's eyes. Quietly, he fished the cold block out of Teyla's discarded cup. Almost artistically he considered it in the firelight. And very carefully placed the icy block in Liam's exposed navel. And had the pleasure of seeing Liam's mouth open silently in a half scream half gasp as his fingers scrabbled to find the offending item as he sat up. Outraged blue eyes fastened on the openly grinning Satdaen. "You bastard." It was breathed out into the space between them. Rapidly followed by six feet and two inches of Irishman intent on revenge. Ronon dropped a shoulder and rolled Liam over him. The sniper looked up from where he landed crouched. Ronon raised an eyebrow that he had been told gave him a definite insolent look. Liam's fist lashed out, in the spirit of the game more than intent on causing Ronon any pain. Well mostly anyway. Ronon batted it away.

"I'm going to get you for this." Liam held up the ice-block before flicking it into the fire.

Ronon smiled slightly. "As if you could get near me."

"Mn, you do know you have to share a room with me tonight?"

"Ronon!" The yell had Ronon on his feet and searching for danger practically before his eyes had opened. There was nothing. Liam slept on. Suspiciously Ronon shook the sniper.

"Wha?" Came the barely intelligible grumpy reply as Liam cracked an eye lid at him. Satisfied, Ronon said, "Nothing.".

"Mmph." Liam rolled over. Had the Satdaen been able to the irishman's face, he might have seen a devious small smile curve his lips.

The second time Ronon woke was because something smacked him across the face, something soft but it had defiantly landed on him. Had the light been on, he would have seen Liam's now sockless foot retreating under the blankets. Nothing moved in the room.

The third time, Ronon _knew_ droplets of water were landing on his face. Again nothing in the room moved. "Liam?" He said. The lump in the bed didn't move. He pitched a pillow at where the head should be. "I know it's you!"

"Mn, what is it?!" Liam brogue was thick as he rubbed his eyes grouchily.

"Stop waking me up!"

"I'm not! Now shut up and go to sleep!"

The fourth time broke him. There was a flash of light in the room that had him out the door in less than four seconds. His head dimly registered muffled sounds from the kitchen. Slamming down the staircase he emerged into the kitchen.

"Quiet!" It was hissed at him in the dim predawn light. He threw himself at the sound and had the owner of the voice against the wall in the space of a heartbeat. Pale cold fingers touched chocolate cheekbones. "Ronon!" He struggled for focus and saw a pair of pale pale blue eyes looking up at him. "What's wrong?"

Ronon narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What are you doing?"

"Being held against the wall." The grumpy accented voice identified itself as Liam before it then went on sarcastically.. "Ohhh, you meant before I was assaulted by a crazy ballistic dreadlocked man? About to go for a leak then a run."

"Oh." Ronon stepped back, releasing his hold on Liam.

"Oh? What the hell is going on?"

"Nothing." Ronon grunted then shrugged. "New place."

Liam nodded then watched Ronon shift uneasily from foot to foot. "Come for a run. Get rid of that energy spike."

"K." Ronon padded quickly up the stairs for his shoes and a change of clothes. Jammed them on his feet and was down the stairs as the toilet gurgled and Liam emerged.

"Coming or what?" The easy fluid accent rolled in the predawn light.

Ronon looked down into the dark blue eyes. "Let's go."

Ronon pushed the pace hard, feet stretching out, eating the distance. The smaller slighter sniper kept up, both breathing hard, until Ronon, summoning a tiring burst of energy, at the last minute pushed him heavily into a bush at the top of the last hill. The Irishman bounced lithely back onto his feet without pausing. Giving the ex-runner a shove, he took off towards the house. Ronon half smiled as he watched the snipers huge long strides temper into a more sedate pace down the hill, before he followed.

"Winner gets first shower." Ronon said magnanimously as he joined the smaller man inside the front door.

"Sucks to have one bathroom." Dougle grinned happily and sauntered off past the rest of the team. "Or whatever you call that water cupboard." He tossed back over his shoulder.

Dex waited till he heard the water turn on before he hissed in Sheppard's ear "_We need to talk._"


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"His eyes were lighter?" Sheppard said with a raised eyebrow. Ronon folded his arms. Sheppard raised a supplicating hand. "Alright, if you say so."

"Have you ever seen a laelia?" Ronon questioned.

"Ah, no." Sheppard replied.

Ronon proceeded to describe something that sounded like a large cat, say a panther or cougar. "That odd flat color."

"Ronon, he could just have contacts." Sheppard pointed out.

"Snipers cannot have bad vision." Ronon stated, remembering a half forgotten conversation.

"There are ones to change eye color." Sheppard said grimly hanging on to the concept. He'd only just rolled out of bed after all.

"Sheppard." Ronon growled. "They were almost white."

"Alright." Sheppard ran a hand tiredly through his hair. "Well, colour aside, he's really fast, his reflexes are bar none, an amazing gift for languages and sometimes he doesn't react the way he is supposed to. That's hardly a reason to run screaming."

"Sheppard, _totally calm_ in that carnage in that village on PX509." Ronon all but snarled, and then added quietly. "Reason enough to run right there."

"Look, there's not a lot I can do." Sheppard shrugged. But then held up a hand to forestall Ronon. "But I can get Weir to make more noise about that file."

"John." Ronon said evenly. The unusual use of Sheppard's first name made the major pause in the middle of standing. "He moves like a Wraith."

The Major paused then resettled at the look on Ronon's face. He hesitated slightly then sighed. "Look, the was talk, only talk mind you, of some special weapons project back on Earth. It was some kind of drug for super soldiers or something." He shrugged. "But the rumor was that they, the soldiers that volunteered for it, were only good for a while then they started to go bat shit crazy."

"Where are they?" Ronon grunted.

"Locked and padded cell probably, if it was as bad as what was said." Sheppard shrugged. Ronon made a noise of dissatisfaction. "Look, he's human, probably as sane as the rest of us around here and yeah, a little weird. But aside from that, he's easy. I can't boot him out for performance. It'd never fly." Ronon grunted assent. "I thought you two were friends." As soon as he said it, Sheppard knew he was wrong. The look Ronon gave him only reaffirmed that thought. "You've been watching him."

"Nobody blends into a team that well, Sheppard. Nobody is that normal." Ronon growled before sniffing the air. "Food's up."

"I'll keep an eye on it." Sheppard sighed, what Ronon said had made sense but he was damned if he knew of a way to address it or fix it.

"Before McKay eats all of it?" Ronon suggested edging towards the door as the sound of Teyla scolding McKay could be heard and Dougle stuck his head out the door, whistling to grab their attention and waved a hand inward.

"Not even you can run that fast." Sheppard tried to stay with the topic change as they moved towards the house.

"Bet the Boy can." Ronon muttered as he opened the door. The mood abruptly crashed back down to earth.

"Bet I can what?" Dougle said pausing with a fork halfway to his mouth as he glanced curiously from one to the other.

"Stop McKay from eating all the food." Ronon grunted as he snagged a plate and started dropping food on it as he sat down.

"Think Teyla was holding her own." Dougle countered lightly.

McKay tried to speak through a mouthful. "Hegrh." Was all that was heard.

"Swallow." Teyla said sternly, pointing her spoon at him. "Then speak."

"I'm not three!" McKay protested to the honey skinned woman frowning at him. "And I'm not eating all the food! There's piles left!" This was directed at the table in general.

"Can see that." Sheppard muttered as he split the last of the scrambled egg looking substance between his and Ronon's plate. Ronon snagged a piece of untouched meat off the side of the scientist's plate as he paid absolutely no attention to him.

"Hey! It takes a lot to power this brain!"

Sheppard glanced up to reply and caught Dougle gazing at him. It unexpectedly made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Cursing Ronon in the privacy of his mind, he made a snarky comment in return without really hearing it. He relaxed fractionally when he realized the Boy was only following the conversation as he then turned his attention back to McKay's splutterings. He tried to soothe himself with the thought that it might only be Ronon's paranoia. But his gut clenched and suddenly he lost interest in breakfast. After all, Ronon knew an enemy when he spotted one. And Ronon had definitely spotted something, he was just unsure what it was.


	15. Chapter 15

_In the briefing room, in a large meeting being held._

Ronon shifted uncomfortably in his seat by the back wall as he stared at the back of Sheppard's head. He didn't like the fact he wasn't sure. It made him irritable and it made him even more irritable know that he was irritable. So much for knowing the problem and dealing with it. He could feel the Boy in the seat next to him. It made the side of his body closest to him prickle. He could see the pale slender hands lying palm down on his cargos out of the corner of his eye. Sitting bolt upright if he knew the man beside him at all. To which he had serious doubts anyway. And he hadn't _exactly_ lied to Sheppard. He wasn't the Boy's friend. He felt the thrum of energy between them and that confused him more than anything. He wasn't sure if they were squaring up for a fight. He thought Dougle was too controlled for that. And there were no arguments, no simmering tension that could be fixed, the Boy gave nothing like that away. The Boy smiled and relaxed when needed to. But everything was _controlled_, like he knew theoretically exactly how much to relax. Like he'd been told how to do it but had never actually done it. The only time he thought he'd seen the real Boy was when he'd pointed the gun at the last standing marine in the corridor before he'd collapsed. There had been one moment of perfect understanding in those eyes, the jaw had relaxed and he'd looked rather disturbingly peace. The Boy had an instinct for death and he was hiding it very well. But Ronon had been betrayed once and it wasn't going to happen again, attraction or no attraction. He needed to break that control, and he needed to survive it. He glanced at the sniper beside him. Dark blue eyes held his calmly before giving a slow blink and looking back up at Weir who was talking. Ronon felt a sudden _ping _in the energy between them. The Boy knew he was being watched.

"The Dadeleues has encountered engine problems on its journey over." Weir at this point had to pause and hold up a hand for silence as a chorus of groans and mutters ripped around the room. "The Asgard are returning the ship to Earth."

"Well, that's this month's chocolate gone." Sheppard turned and muttered grumpily to Ronon. Ronon just looked amused.

"As such," Weir raised her voice, "We are having to trade with the neighboring worlds. The Athosians have also agreed to help as much as they are able. We have done this before, people, but for the next couple of months we will be on our own."

"Can't the Asgard run supplies over? We have projects that need to be monitored!" McKay's voice rose above the general noise.

"The Asgard are not a courier service." This comment was greeted by general snickers as Weir stared down McKay who pouted. "I'm sure you will cope Rodney. Doctor Beckett? Is there anything you are low on?"

"Most things are stockpiled. We should be fine Dr Weir." Beckett's thick brogue rolled softly across the room

"Dismissed." Weir said.

"There is going to be no caffeine?" Teyla asked quietly as the team drifted together, eyeballing McKay warily across the room.

"Caffeine deprivation is not a reason to stick him in my ward." Came Beckett's quiet lilt from behind them. Sheppard raised his hands in innocence. Beckett clapped a hand lightly on Sheppard's shoulder as he walked past him to the door, tossing back over his shoulder. "You fool no one."

"He won't need a ward." Ronon growled as he and Sheppard had significant eye contact.

"Where's Liam?" Teyla suddenly asked, looking around for the pale man.

"Left after Beckett." Ronon said easily. "Wanna spar?"

_Three weeks later_

"This is getting weird." Sheppard muttered to Ronon as they watched the small sniper run what appeared to be his fourth lap of the balconies surrounding Atlantis from the bay windows of the cafeteria.

"What is Diabetes?" Ronon asked suddenly.

"Sugar levels in the blood is either to high or to low." Sheppard said automatically then frowned. "Why?"

"He has it." Ronon said frowning as he tracked the dark haired man's progress.

"No he doesn't. It wasn't in his file." Sheppard swapped his attention fully onto the big Satedan.

"That's what he was asking the Doc bout a couple of weeks ago." Ronon grunted. "How much stuff he had left."

"And Carson said?" Sheppard asked curiously.

"Said his stuff was almost out but he had plenty of the insulin in storage." Ronon shrugged.

"He asked in front of you?" Sheppard said as his internal _something's not right_ meter went off the scale.

"Nah." Ronon shook his head. "One of the nurses told me."

"You didn't threaten her?" Sheppard said hopefully.

"It was male." Ronon said with a twitch of the lips. "What's _patient doctor confidentiality_?"

Sheppard just smiled wearily. "Just the reason he wasn't supposed to tell you. Medical ethics. And probably the reason you had to threaten him."

"You people have some weird rules." Ronon raised an eyebrow. "So what we gonna do?"

"I have no idea." Sheppard said as he watched the sniper begin his fifth lap.

_On an uneventful mission that week_

"Night of the living dead." Sheppard muttered to himself as he watched the sniper in front of him. Over the last two weeks he had watched the sniper's personality fold away like Peter Pan's shadow. And unlike Peter Pan, they still hadn't found it. The sniper didn't laugh, didn't get angry, barely spoke, barely did anything except follow orders and _watch_. And he'd stopped sparring. Ronon was acting like GI Joe on acid, Teyla was spending so much time sparring that Sheppard was beginning to wonder if she was turning into Ronon's twin and McKay was being a constant pain in the ass, probably from sugar and caffeine withdrawal. And Sheppard had what felt like a constant headache. And starting yesterday, the lovely symptom of the Irishman stretching like his skin didn't fit properly had developed. It was driving the team up the wall and he was fairly sure Ronon was already down the other side. He also had a nasty suspicion that he wasn't far off joining Ronon either. He sighed, it didn't look like this was going to be an enjoyable mission.

_Next week _

"Sheppard?!" It was the timbre of Teyla's voice on the comms which had Sheppard half out the door before he'd had a chance to answer. "We need you in the training room."

He was sprinting, eyes bright, by the time he reached training room. Bursting in the door he saw an unstable tableau before him. There were a group of four or five marines milling around, muttering, at one end of the locker room. Teyla stood, somewhat incongruously clad in only a towel and trailing wet hair, with a fighting stick in each hand in the middle. And Dougle stood bolt upright, eyes snapped forward towards the door. Curiously, Sheppard noted for further observation, Teyla looked far more fierce and intimidating than usual. And Ronon was leaning casually on the doorframe to the training room, arms folded across his chest as he looked simultaneously bored and highly amused. It was that look that reassured Sheppard that Teyla was not the subject of any harm. It left him the hell confused however.

"Clothes?" Sheppard suggested very quietly as he walked over to stand beside Teyla.

"Thankyou." Teyla had a certain haughty tone before shooting a dark look at Ronon who merely raised an eyebrow at her as she stalked out.

"What happened?" He asked the room in general. Then pointed at Ronon as all the marines tried to talk at once.

"He deserved it." Ronon shrugged.

"C'mon man! We were just talking smack." One of the marine's protested.

"They've been noticing that Dougle is not sparring with anyone." Ronon said in reply to Sheppard's expression.

"He's been acting like a robot! We just wanted to have a little fun!" Another marine chimed in.

"You were pushing him around?" Sheppard asked in disbelief. Ronon's snort of laughter brought him up short on that track. "Dougle?" He snapped.

"Sir?" Came the even flat reply.

"Going to grace me with your version of events?" Sheppard asked as his head throbbed in warning of the stressful day he'd been having.

"Sir, they surrounded myself." Dougle said in exactly the same flat monotone voice. "This was a tactical error on my part. If this had been avoided, no injuries would have been forthcoming. I believed that they meant to do physical damage. I responded to this perception."

"Uhuh." Sheppard was silent for a minute, regarding the robot before him. "Ronon?"

"Teyla jumped in the middle." The dreadlocked man shrugged, indicating he would have let them have it out.

Sheppard sighed. "Anyone seriously hurt?"

"Sent Faulkner to the Doc, dislocated jaw." Ronon waved a hand dismissively.

"What about this?!" Came the outraged exclamation as one of the marines held up the back of his shirt to show an angry red area that was clearly going to be one hell of a bruise.

"If you'd landed correctly that wouldn't have happened." Ronon shrugged again, uncaring. Sheppard could have sworn he saw the corners of Dougle's mouth twitch. There was a cacophony of grumbles and mutterings.

"What I would give for one shot at him." Came one of the distinct grumbles.

"Who said that?" Sheppard frowned in anger. These men should know better.

"I am not adverse to taking this to the training room if it would beneficial to the resolution of this perceived slight." Dougle said evenly. Sheppard was glad to note he wasn't the only one staring at the sniper after that statement.

"They'll all want a shot." Ronon's bass said to Dougle.

"That is acceptable." Came the unflappable reply.

"Alright." Sheppard sighed then pointed a finger warningly at the marines as they surged forward, "But once you walk out that training room door, this is over, got it?" There were nods and grunts all round. "Good."

Ronon held out a pair of fighting sticks to Sheppard. "Just in case." Sheppard saw that the boredom had vanished out of those dark eyes and they were dancing, adrenaline charged.

The marines lined one side of the training room wall as Sheppard indicated the first one forward. And Dougle abruptly held up one hand to halt the marine.

"One moment." Dougle said as he started to take off his boots. That earned him a few curious stares. Then with a flick of his fingers he indicated the marine forward. Who came at him in a rush. And had the ignominy of having the pale man grip one arm firmly, roll him over his shoulder and then slam an elbow firmly into his midriff as he landed. The marine curled up with a whistle as the air was expelled forcibly from his lungs. Dougle stepped back, body loose and ready. Ronon shook his head before yanking the marine upright and giving him a firm, jolting slap to the back, forcing the air back into his lungs and helping him over to the side. The second marine as he stepped forward was more cautious, jabbing, feinting, circling around the sniper. The sniper just watched him flatly. Then launched himself off his back foot and delivered a flying kick to his upper chest. The marine flew backwards into the padded wall with a solid _thunk_ but was game enough to regain his feet a little unsteadily and advance again. And then moving fluidly, the sniper had the marine's arm twisted up behind him as he fell to his knees with an inarticulate cry. "Yield?" Dougle asked. The marine just nodded then exhaled with pain as his arm was released. The other two marines distressingly followed suit.

"This matter is done with." Sheppard growled at the four marines. "And schedule some extra training sessions with Ronon."

"He hasn't had a go." The marine holding a hand to his ribs said looking at Dex.

"I do not believe that Specialist Dex and I have a problem." Came Dougle's calm reply.

"Nope, no problem." Ronon said looking dryly amused as he shrugged and pushed himself off the wall.

"Dougle, dismissed." Sheppard rapped out sharply.

"Sir." Dougle dipped his head once and disappeared out the door.

"Well, that was educational." Sheppard said quietly with a grin to Ronon. "Didn't even break a sweat." Ronon made an uncommitted noise as Sheppard graced the bruised men before him with another grin. "Well done men. Academy awards all round" Before he sauntered out the door, clearly plotting.

"Christ!" Came the explosion from one marine as the door closed behind Sheppard.

"Coulda done with some warning!" Came the groan from another as he tried to massage some feeling back into his arm.

"Bastard kicks like a goddamn mule, n why in hell did we have to do that?" Another groused.

Ronon just shrugged again. "9am training. Last in gets to run the catwalks." And on that note he left.

There was silence for a moment before one marine muttered softly, "What the hell is going on?"

There was another beat of silence before another added, "Faulkner has a jaw like a troll too."

"Fuck it." One of the less bruised marines said. "We've got two days on the mainland next week for this stunt. Let command play their games."

General murmurs of agreement met this statement.


	16. Chapter 16

Over the next week it became quite common to see the pale skinned sniper with a pair of white i-pod headphones stuck in his ears. Weir was the first to see it and damn near walked herself into a railing as her eyes all but boggled. Of course it could have been the heavy bass leaking out. A bass that was like a heart beat. Some prodding of scientists and it was discovered that Miko had been the one to hook Dougle up with a device similar to an MP3 player. After McKay and his klepto instincts had been put to good use, Sheppard, Ronon and Weir were all subjected to loud 'teenage death metal noise' (as Weir termed it) music poured out of her computer speakers into a somewhat shocked silence.

"He's angry." Weir observed in the crashing silence after the racket had been turned off.

"Y'think?" Sheppard had said, somewhat snarkily, still trying to get his hearing back. Elizabeth had given Sheppard _the look_. "Sorry." He sighed.

"No." Ronon had said slowly, drawing the word out. "Blocking things out."

"How so?" Weir had asked curiously. It wasn't often Ronon said much in her presence.

Ronon just shrugged and Sheppard nodded slowly as he saw what the dreadlocked man was referring to. "He's right."

"And?" Weir said impatiently.

"He's running till he's exhausted, personality's all but vanished, no emoting and," this part made him wince, "he's not doing confrontation, no sparring, almost no violence unless backed into a corner like last week."

"So blocking Atlantis out?" Weir reaffirmed.

Ronon made an impatient noise and Sheppard had to resist grinding his teeth together. He hated it when Weir started to sound like a parrot. Interestingly it was Ronon who ground out, "Aware of surroundings. Fading people out."

"On set of post traumatic stress disorder?" Sheppard suggested. He'd seen it in Afghanistan and it wasn't pretty.

"Uh-" Weir started when Teyla, who'd been acting sentry, stuck her head in the door with a worried look.

"Liam and McKay are headed this way. He's not happy." Teyla said with a frown. "Would you like me to intercept them?"

"No, it's okay." Weir said calmly and Sheppard felt Ronon move back a step or two. While it way have looked like a retreat, Sheppard knew that the big Satedan was merely giving himself enough room to swing if the need arose. After a tense few moments, there was the heavy tread on the floor heralding the arrival of a reluctant McKay and a ghostly quiet Dougle.

McKay looked somewhat miserable as he said to Sheppard, "Sorry."

"Is music against regulations, Dr Weir?" Dougle asked bluntly with no preliminaries.

"No, it is not." Weir said trying her best to return the flat wall pinning stare.

"Do you have a degree in psychology, Dr Weir?" Came the unexpected query.

"No." Weir said slowly.

"Then I believe that you have a music device that was previously in my possession and was removed without my consent." Dougle said smoothly. "As such, under regulation 2.6, you are required to immediately return such property once found. Investigating contents on electronic files on the device is a breach of regulation 4.7. However, these matters will not be pursued providing the device is immediately returned." With this pronouncement he held out a hand for the music device.

Weir blinked at him for a moment before she exhaled heavily. "You are correct and have my apologies Lieutenant."

"Apologies for the interruption." Dougle snapped a salute. McKay quailed as that flat gaze ran straight over him as he walked briskly out the door without so much as glancing at the other two occupants of the room.

It was Ronon who broke the silence. "He's cracking." The quiet note of pleasure in the big man's voice made Sheppard glance at him. Ronon was still staring out the door.

"What happened Rodney?" Weir's comforting voice drew the focus back onto the smaller scientist who had collapsed into a chair. McKay squeaked like air rushing out of a balloon. "Did he threaten you?" She asked, concern coloring her voice.

Sheppard interrupted with a note of puzzlement in his voice, "Do you know anyone that knows the regulations well enough to quote them?"

"Woolsey." McKay said faintly, distantly making everyone immediately tense. "But he makes them up as he goes as well."

"McKay!" Weir said sharply to break into his reverie then her voice gentled as she continued. "What happened?"

McKay blinked then his expression shifted and he blushed to the roots of his hair. "Herkistmi" He muttered really fast.

"What?" Sheppard asked baffled as he exchanged a look with Ronon.

"I said," McKay glared then found the carpet really interesting, "he kissed me."

Sheppard rather unflatteringly choked, while Ronon's eyebrows nearly rose off his face as he absently slapped Sheppard on the back. "Forced you?" Weir asked tentatively.

"You gave us up for a kiss?" Ronon loomed over McKay.

"Ah, um, no, not exactly?" McKay stuttered, then tried, "Maybe?"

But Ronon had had enough as he stomped out.

"Hope it was everything you dreamed of." Sheppard said softly, perhaps a tad unkindly, as he clapped a hand to the scientist's shoulder as he listened to Ronon stomp off down the corridor. "I'd have some painkillers on hand for your next training session." McKay just nodded miserably.

_In a deserted area_

Ronon watched the smaller man lean on the railing as he watched the ocean far below. He could feel a sharp pang of _something_ in his gut. It couldn't be jealousy. He knew it wasn't jealousy. The dark hair, tousled by the wind, turned to reveal a pair of dark blue eyes that regarded him for a moment. "Got something on your mind, Ronon?"

The big Satedan took that as as much of an invitation as he was going to get and joined the sniper at the railing. "Maybe."

"I am not in the mood to play twenty questions with you." The pale sniper said flatly looking straight at him again.

"You don't have moods lately." Ronon said just as flatly watching his reflection shimmer slightly on the surface of the blue eyes.

"Your subtlety leaves a lot to be desired Ronon."

Ronon dipped his head in acknowledgement not relinquishing that gaze. "I know you wear contacts."

"Do you?" Came the agreeable reply.

"How can a sniper wear contacts?" Ronon impatiently pushed down the urge to strangle the smaller man.

The sniper looked away, ducking his head. He turned back, eyes wide, blinking a few times then pinned Ronon's gaze with his own. Ronon looked into eyes that reminded him of ice-flows, endless and bleak. And something jerked inside him, something that wasn't welcome. Pale, icy blue eyes looked up into dark brown. "I need food." The sniper cocked his head at him as he put the contacts in a case from his pocket without looking. "And you need to see this."

Ronon watched the sniper as he walked down the hallways. Something had changed in his bearing with his eye color. Halfway down to the cafeteria, the pale man said softly, "Don't watch me."

"Why?" Ronon frowned.

"Watch them." There was a pause. "Please." So Ronon did. At first he didn't see it, then he recognized it. The incoming gazes would hit the sniper's face then blink and do a rapid sideways slide to Ronon's face, or the floor depending on the person. Several people did an actual double take. So when they reached the cafeteria and the pale man said quietly, "Sit, I'll get your lunch," he did as he was bid. That pale eyed gaze made people give way before him, scientists scattering like skittles in front of him. And then he was back, in record time, with trays full of food. There was silence as Dougle sat down across from the dreadlocked man. Ronon absently stabbed at his food as he watched the other man shovel in food, primarily meat. "Do you understand now?" He asked pausing in his frantic eating.

Ronon gave a bark of self depreciating laughter as he thought about the question carefully hidden in that statement. "Not even close."

Dougle studied him for a long moment over the rim of his cup as he took a sip of water. Then he nodded. "Okay."

"You gonna lie to me?" Ronon asked easily as he contemplated the questions he wanted to ask.

That pale gaze rested on him as the sniper chewed thoughtfully. Then he nodded, "Probably." He gestured with his fork, "But ask anyway."

"Why did your parents name you Liam?" Ronon leant back as the sniper blinked at him for a moment.

"Liam means 'strong willed warrior'." The sniper paused then offered. "Dougle means 'dark stranger'."

Huh. Well at least somebody in this mess had a sense of humor. "That village on PX509, you didn't react?" Ronon changed tack.

"Seen a lot of death." It was said with an offhand shrug.

"Seen or caused?" That sharp gaze is trained on him.

"Sometimes the end results can be the same." The sniper had stopped eating and was simply watching the ex-runner in return.

"You hide what you are." Ronon said easily.

The face is matter of fact "I can clear a room faster than McKay at his worst." Ronon blinks a little as he registers the first, however strained, attempt at humor he has seen in weeks out of the sniper. And he knows it is true. The room has defiantly thinned since they, and the pale eyes, have made their appearance. The spearing of a tiny tomato punctuated the next matter of fact statement "You do not trust me."

"Should I?" Ronon said easily.

"Earth children are afraid of monsters under the bed. They are content to pull the covers over their ears and hope it does not come out." The pale man shrugged as he chewed for a moment. "They would rather not face what they fear."

"Satedan beds were on the ground."

"I am beginning to realize this." The dark hair slid forward as the head was inclined agreement. There was a puzzled pause. "Why don't my eyes worry you?"

_Because they might be the only thing that shows you for what you are, different, other, compelling and dangerous._ But he cannot say that so he settles for, "The color of someone's eyes will not kill you." _But someone with many secrets might._ Those words float between them unsaid. "We are both a long way from our people."

The sniper shakes his head as he scans the room almost absently. "I never had any and you no longer do." On that harsh jarring note, the pale man has risen and gone. Leaving Ronon gripping the edge of the bench hard enough to hear the metal groan warningly.


End file.
